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History will remember him as a brutal dictator and a mass murderer responsible for countless crimes against humanity. Yet he spent last night kicking back on his Crawford ranch while an innocent man was led to the gallows.

Don’t get me wrong, Saddam was a bad guy, but* his gassing of an entire Kurdish village was no different than U.S. troops killing innocent cilivians on the field of battle. Saddam’s inhuman practice of torturing his own people isn’t any worse than Lyndie England making pig piles out of naked Iraqis on Bush’s orders. According to the sacred laws of Moral Equivilency written in cuniform by ancient Druidic Sissies and passed down through the generations to modern day progressives, Saddam and Bush are exactly the same right down to the identical skid marks on their underoos.

No one can argue that Saddam deserved to be punished for giving Bush an excuse to expand U.S. hegemony. But just as Rev. Merle Haggard’s gay sex romps cleansed all homosexuals of their sins, Bush’s hypocrisy has exonerated Hussein of any guilt for the crimes he committed. By all rights, Saddam should have been freed the moment they pulled him out of that spider hole. Instead, he was forced through a long circus trial and then executed in the dead of night before any Hollywood celebrities could appeal for his release.

So the flags will fly at half-mast Tuesday not for the passing of an American president, but for the death of justice and the tragic loss of a potential University of Colorado professor.

*The phrase “Saddam was a bad guy, but” is a registered trademark of the Democratic National Committee. All Rights Reserved.

AWOL, draft-dodging, chickenhawk Bush cowered inside a taxpayer-funded armored car as tornados swept through Central Texas today. He was no doubt oblivious to the irony, or what “irony” even means for that matter.

It goes without saying that severe weather is caused primarily by Bush’s refusal to ratify Kyoto, but for the tornados to touch down in the home of his Enron, Halliburton, and Big Oil masters is poetic justice at its finest. Yet almost as if someone flicked a switch from their comfy armored car, the storm conventiently passed and neither Dumbya nor any of his staff were hurt.

On the bright side, Camp Casey was totally spared! Reports of a “horrendous sucking sound” raised initial concerns that a twister was approaching, but the fears were alleviated when it turned out that Mother Cindy had simply retired to her trailer with Hugo Chavez. It took her unbelievable courage to do so, for trailers are known tornado magnets, and will continue to be as long as Bush's FEMA insists on building mobile home parks in tornado zones.

Ronald Reagan. Cap Weinberger. And now, Gerald H. Ford. It's like Christmas for Progressives. Yet judging by the way the so-called "mainstream media" is lavishing praise and adulation upon the man they once dubbed an “affable dunce”, a “stumbling boob”, and “the Godfather of Soul”, you’d think we should all be wallowing in despair that the man who pardoned Nixon finally got what was coming to him.

Yes, I’ll admit that even with my barely concealed glee over the death of another ReTHUGniKKAN warmonger, as well as my with my narcissistic inability to say anything genuinely nice about anybody who doesn’t share my political views, I’m tempted to begrudgingly concede that at least he wasn’t Bush and show a little reverence for the man. But to take the high road now would betray everything I stand for. The reason BlameBush! continually rises above other progessive blogs is that I am never afraid to speak the truth as ugly and fabricated as it may seem.

Ford was indeed Bushlike - perhaps even more so than Bush himself. Let the hate mail fly, but you cannot deny the similarities. The most blaringly obvious is that neither Ford nor Bush were ever elected; both exploiting an obscure Constitutional loophole to steal their way into office. Both were quick to send our tots off to fight overseas, yet neither possessed the courage to put on a uniform and badmouth the nation in a time of war. Perhaps on the advice of their mutual puppetmaster, Dick Cheney, neither Ford nor Bush ever met with Cindy Sheehan, the greiving mother who lost her only son in Bush’s illegal and immoral war for oil. On environmental issues, Ford and Bush were practically identical, neither doing anything to prevent Hurricane Katrina nor lifting a finger to save any Black voters in the aftermath.

Most importantly, neither one of the fanatically religious peeResidents devoted a single penny of federal funds to AIDS research, the single standard by which all presidents are judged. Millions of gay Americans died painful and unflamboyant deaths while Ford putted around the golf course with his rich country club pals. Sadly, their bodies were never found. Perhaps they never will be – or maybe we’re just not looking in the right place. I’d suggest digging around the seventh green at Pebble Beach.

The most striking condemnation of Ford will probably become his own epitaph, yet it came not from a political adversary, but his beloved wife:

Four shopping days left until the Winter Solstice, and despite our best efforts to suck every last ounce of joy out of the holiday season there are still some Christians out there who insist on turning Christmas into one big religious hoorah. It’s therefore incumbent upon us as progressives to take whatever steps necessary to not only protect the sacred Wall Between Church and State from such proselytizing fanatics, but our impressionable children from the soft bigotry of Christian imagery.

So before I crawl under the sink for the remainder of the holiday, I’d like to leave you with a few quick tips that will help defend you and yours against the cultural disease known as Christmas.

• When distributing free condoms and gay pride literature outside your local elementary school, educate the little tots abot how the bourgeois concept of “Santa Claus” is merely a construct of the global capitalist plutocracy to exploit the primitive social-psychological consumptive impulses of the sheeplike masses. Oh, and the Easter Bunny killed their mommy.

• You’ll be the life of the holiday party while making a powerful political statement if you whack yourself in the knee with a ballpein hammer and scream like a girl whenever someone mentions “Christmas”.

• Insenstive holiday yard displays are infuriating at best, but their sting is lessened if all cultures are equally represented. As an acknowledgment that we live in a big, multicultural village, demand your neighbors place the severed head of an infidel next to their plastic nativity scenes.

• Progressives have made great strides in silencing the infamous Salvation Army bell ringers, but they still smile and offer you warm wishes for the holiday season. Contact your local chapter of the ACLU to see what can be done to stop them. Nothing cures a case of yuletide cheer like a well-crafted harassment lawsuit.

• For many Americans, Christmas is a time to reunite with family members and loved ones. But for others, it’s just another reminder of their lonely, fruitless existence. That’s not really a tip. It’s just something I needed to get off my chest.

• Four words: Boogers in the Eggnog.

• Christmas isn’t only about Baby Jesus. Refuse to reward carolers with any tofu or soymilk until they honor MARKAZHI POOJ with a recital of the Thiruvembavai . Offer to provide the traditional brightly painted squirrels.

The killer winds that hammered the Greater Puget Sound area last week uprooted trees, knocked down power lines, and left millions without electricity. As of this morning, power has regretfully been restored to the better part of Seattle, and the blame lies squarely on the energy companies that put the selfish needs of humans above the preservation of our fragile ecosystem.

While thousands stampede to the newly reopened shopping malls in a last minute orgy of holiday consumerism, there will be no Kwaanza for the countless numbers of endangered salmon that are puréed in giant hydrolelectric turbines just so Bush’s Big Enron Buddies can line their pockets with blood money. And let’s not forget the lumber companies that will profit as fallen trees are cruelly removed from their final resting places and dragged off to pulp mills - or butchered like sides of beef and stashed inside the homes of wealthy upper-class families who can afford actual fireplaces.

Others aren’t so lucky, or so White. In fact, Bush’s wind storm appeared to have a Katrina-esque way of conveniently targeting minorities. The majority of those who were killed or hospitalized due to carbon monoxide poisoning were non-English speaking immigrants, hailing from poverty-stricken Third World countries where common sense is a luxury most cannot afford.

It seems that Bush's anti-immigration policies have taken a turn for the farcical, as has my life. My building is still without power, so I've been doing what little blogging I can from Jimmy Wong’s Sushi Bar & Internet Café - and although Jimmy makes the best damn Salmon Rolls in Seattle, the place reeks like the back end of Grandma’s ’59 Edsel.

As Bush has so aptly demonstrated, any idiot can make enemies. But it takes a man of courage, compassion, and a robustly French approach to diplomacy to turn enemies into friends. Senator John Kerry is such a man. On a fact-finding mission to Syria - a mystical land where facts magically leap into the laps of U.S. senators like horny Bichons Frisés - Kerry urged Bush to open a dialogue with both Syria and Iran in the hopes of winning their much needed assistance in Iraq.

Crawling to the enemy is a brilliant strategy, one that the Shrub would certainly never approve of. That’s because he doesn’t posess an inkling of the diplomacy skills that seemingly ooze out of John Kerry’s stately pores like the stench of cat piss from a Chinese opium addict. Iran and Syria are by no means perfect. Indeed, they're actively supplying the Iraqi Freedom Fighters with the weapons they’ve been using to kill and maim our troops as well as scores of innocent civilians - but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. For the sake of peace and goodwill, we must have the courage to put aside our petty differences and find common ground with those who openly plot our destruction.

Befriending our enemies is John Kerry’s raison d’être. In fact, some may say it's his whole reason for existence. But it's a task that he cannot shoulder alone. Each of us must look into our hearts and ask ourselves what we are doing in our homes and our workplaces to show Iran and Syria that we are deserving of their love.

Have you called for the downfall of Western Civilization and the destruction of the illegitimate Zionist regime today? Have you denied the Holocaust or blamed your problems on those rascally Jews? Have you burned a U.S. flag in protest of the Great Satan's imperialist occupation of the Muslim holy land? If you answered “Yes” to any of these questions, then you and your fellow Berkeley Professors have done much to lay the Foundation of Friendship upon which John Kerry will build his Luxury Penthouse of Appeasement.

Unfortunately, there those who would rather make enemies than friends. They would talk to Iran and Syria not with finely nuanced words of respect and understanding, but with bullets and bombs. Their primitive neocon ideals make them incapable of compromise, even as Iraq finally becomes the quagmire John Kerry had always hoped it would be. So until John Kerry is restored to the White House in 2008, we can only hope that our own personal gestures of goodwill will be enough to earn the love of those who dwell snugly in the armpit of the International Community.

Sen. Tim Johnson (D-SD) felt a little woozy today, probably after eating one of the Shrub's poisoned tacos. Indigestion probably, but it was enough to start the bloodthirsty right-wing vultures circling overhead, licking their reptilian chops in morbid anticipation that Johnson would keel over and put control of Congress back in their hands. Some even hypocritically demanded that Michael Schiavo be allowed to grant him Death with Dignity.

The so-called “Compassionate Conservatives” praying for Johnson's demise needn’t waste Jezzus' time. If Sen. Johnson should ever become so mentally incapacitated that he couldn’t perform his duties as a Democrat congressman, I’d be really surprised. In fact, it’s virtually impossible. Our own Sen. Patty Murray has an I.Q. of seven but a heart of gold, and Rep. Jim McDermott enjoys long, meandering conversations with his toaster. Being mentally challenged doesn't make them unable lead. Rather, it makes them better Democrats!

So as long as he doesn’t send any gay emails to his interns, Johnson is guaranteed his own private oxygen tent in Congress for as long as Harry Reid can keep his brain alive.

Hate-fuelled violence erupted at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport last weekend when an innocent Rabbi was attacked and severely beaten by a gang of festively decorated confers.

Rabbi Elazar Bogomilsky’s visit to Sea-Tac was meant to honor the rich Hanukkah custom of placing the sacred Menorah in areas that reek of urine and dirty socks. Instead, the Rabbi was brutally assaulted by a pair of Douglas Firs. As a crowd of shoeless onlookers watched helplessly, the elaborately decorated trees held him down while a tinsel-clad Blue Spruce repeatedly punched him in the liver. A colorful arrangement of Poinsettias then tossed the rabbi down a moving escalator while flashing the Nazi salute and shouting anti-semitic slogans. Airport security arrived, if only moments too late, arresting six Holiday Trees and a small Rhododendron who referred to a female officer as “Sugar Tits”.

Rabbi Bogomilsky is listed in serious but stable condition at Seattle’s Harborview Medical Center. Two Mexican landscapers armed with pruning shears are stationed outside his door at this very moment to protect him from any further attacks from brightly festooned shrubbery. The Port of Seattle hastily removed all the holiday decorations from the airport and announced plans to install “Diversity Kiosks”, where visitors can enjoy a variety of nine-dollar beers in a welcoming environment of multicultural bliss while a mentally-challenged Lithuanian rummages through their luggage.

All the usual hate-radio suspects are making light of last weekend’s tragedy, but the incident is a perfect example of the terrible threats minority Americans face on a daily basis from coniferous trees adorned with sparkly lights, or any other symbols of the Holiday season, Christian and secular.

The Seventh of December. A momentous day in American history, for it marks the one month anniversary of our victory over the the Republican Nazis in Congress. But while we bask in the giddyness of triumph, the shattering defeat for the reichwingers threatens to tear away their already crumbling mask of sanity. Sure, they keep up a nice façade by saying pithy little things like “The Republicans didn’t deserve to win” and “Oh, was there an election?”, but beneath their thin veneer of stupidity there’s a pychotic episode waiting to happen. When conservatives lose, they don’t have the common decency to flee the country or seek emotional counseling like the rest of us, either. They bottle up their anger until it becomes so powerful that they snap and take out 30 people with an AK-47 purchased from Dick Clark through the Game Show loophole. I can't let that happen.

As the duly elected morale officer at Seattle Hemp Products, I’m charged with keeping the outbursts of feminine hysteria and total emotional breakdowns to a bare minimum. That wasn’t so easy back when Bush stole the election, and then re-stole it a second time. But now that Democrats are back in power, my day is mostly devoted to vainly trying to keep my hands off myself.

Still, I wasn’t going to make the same mistake Bush did when he read a story to a pet goat while a group of kindergartners flew planes into our skyscrapers. To prevent an “incident” in the wake of their devastating loss, I decided to provide free emotional counseling for our conservative employees – both of them.

Yes, I know – Hatemongering Haters of Hate have no place in our a progressive workplace of unconditional love, as chemically induced as it may be. Unfortunately they’re both members of the Transgendered Community so we can’t fire them. You’d think someone with a Lee Press-On Vagina® would be a tad more socially progressive, but I guess they’re just freaks of nature. So we keep them down in the mailroom where they can’t poison the minds of other employees with their right-wing hatemongering.

“Of course I’m disappointed,” Norris (or is it Doris?) told me when I invited him to our first counseling session. “But it’s not like I’m going to kill myself just because my candidate lost. What do you think I am, some sort of limp-wristed sissy boy?”

“No, I guess not,” I said, unconsciously rubbing the six-year old scars on my wrists. “But surely the return of Congress to its rightful owners and the impending repeal of the tax cuts for the wealthiest one percent of Americans had you running around your luxury Seattle condominium crying like a little girl until your mother took you into her arms and said “Hush Hush Larry-Boo! Mommy here now. Mommy here”?

“Nope,” Shirley replied, his enormous breasts bouncing to-and-fro as he spoke. “I guess Doris and I have bigger balls than you liberals do.”

Ah, yes! That’s what they all say, right before they crank up the Huey Lewis and chase you around the office with an axe.

Lesson learned: conservatives are too cold and inhuman to appreciate the concept of empathy. Emotional counseling is only wasted on them, for they have no recognizable emotions but greed - and disgust for anyone who is different.